


When the World Comes Down

by winglesswarrior



Series: Teen Wolf_100 [1]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: F/M, Future Fic, M/M, Relationship(s)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-08-03
Updated: 2012-08-22
Packaged: 2017-11-11 08:00:44
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 10
Words: 14,048
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/476349
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/winglesswarrior/pseuds/winglesswarrior
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>As if just trying to figure out if what Stiles has with Derek is a 'thing' or not wasn't enough, trouble seems to find the wolfpack wherever they go.</p><p>This is a continuation of <a href="http://archiveofourown.org/works/464150/chapters/801038">The Road Untraveled</a> and picks up 3-4 weeks after that left off.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Lots of notes to start, bear with me. 
> 
> This is a continuation of [The Road Untraveled](http://archiveofourown.org/works/464150/chapters/801038) and picks up 3-4 weeks after that left off. 
> 
> It's been added to a Teen Wolf 100 prompt series I'm working on with thatfilmgirl and I'm going to try and have each chapter hit on a prompt. I'll make a note of each one as I post, so hopefully I can be successful (nothing's easy right?) 
> 
> I kind of winged it on tags, especially relationships, because I'm stil not sure what's going to play a huge factor in what. But I'll update as I go. 
> 
> Chapter 1's prompt: 74. sleep

It most certainly was not a thing. Things had titles and names and real live explanations, and this was none of that. It wasn’t anything. It certainly wasn’t worth bringing up with Scott, despite the fact that Stiles was sure he should.

How did he though? What explanation did he have for the part where four nights out of every week he spent sleeping next to Derek? It wasn’t like anything even happened. Sometimes Stiles didn’t even notice the shift in the mattress until he stirred in his sleep enough to feel hot breath against the back of his neck. Sometimes he woke up just to see Derek’s back to him, space between them, as if they were merely occupying the same space and the bed wasn’t nearly as small as it was. Other times he woke up with an arm as a pillow and another wrapped around his waist. There were even a few times where he was sure that Derek had been there, but he’d come after Stiles had fallen asleep and left before he woke up and outside of a feeling of being cold there was no real proof that the Alpha had been there.

What could Stiles even say? He slept on sheets that reeked of Derek, no matter how often he changed them, and he showered religiously, even if he was headed to morning practice, trying to mask the smell of Derek with soap so Scott wouldn’t ask questions. And as far as Stiles was aware, Scott remained blissfully ignorant.

The rest of the pack wasn’t though and Stiles couldn’t help but notice the way Boyd stopped giving him dirty looks, the way Isaac made faces that were almost friendly in his direction and even Jackson, Jackson of all people, kept watching him like he knew what secret Stiles was carrying around. Apparently Derek didn’t care if he smelled like Stiles as much as Stiles worried.

“Mr. Stilinski?”

Stiles’ head jerked up to stare at his Physics teacher, realizing that nope, he hadn’t actually been paying attention at all. Scott was staring at him, confused as to why he’d been spacing out and Jackson was hiding a laugh behind one hand. “Uh yeah?”

“Newton’s first law. You were going to explain it to the class.”

Stiles looked down at his book, which was definitely opened to the wrong page, and let out a relieved sigh that he actually knew this one already. And people made fun of him for reading Wikipedia in his free time. “Two bodies in motion will stay in motion unless something stops them?”

This time Jackson couldn’t hide the laugh and the snicker snaked out before he bit the palm of his hand to silence it. Stiles shot him a dirty look, but he wasn’t really the only one who was trying not to laugh.

“Let’s stick to one body in motion, that stays either still or in motion unless acted upon by an outside force,” the teacher said instead, giving Stiles a weird look. “Two brings in a load of other implications.”  
That got another snicker of laughter from Jackson and Stiles took the opportunity to throw his pen at him. “Mr. Whittmore, don’t encourage him, and Mr. Stilinski, do try and stay with the class.”

Scott gave Stiles a look, fully aware that he was missing something, but Stiles just shook his head. Great. Now he had inside jokes with Jackson. Of course the jokes might not count if they were at his expense.

“What is with you?” Scott asked once they were free of the class and Jackson playfully pushed Stiles into the lockers when he passed. “It was like you were daydreaming in there.”  
It was also like Scott had hit the nail on the head with that one, because he had been, lost in the memory of waking up with Derek’s head on his chest that morning. That the wolf had actually lingered a minute or two after the alarm went off before leaving without a word. That had felt like something, but really it was probably nothing. “Well I was kinda. You know, I ran into Lydia today and was going over every stupid thing I said and reminding myself why I have no chance there.” Which was a completely believable lie, minus the part where Stiles hadn’t thought about Lydia in two weeks. No, lately his mind was bogged down with a certain other person who just seemed to act like this whole sharing a bed thing was completely normal. For now, Scott didn’t know that and that was enough.

“Oh. Well that makes sense. Maybe you should find a new object of affection.” Scott was trying to help and Stiles really just wanted to punch his friend. It was like he didn’t quite get it.

“Yeah maybe. We’ll see. Probably not.”

Or definitely so. The kind of so that as they pushed the doors open to the school he was looking for the black Camaro that was definitely not parked outside the school next to his Jeep.

“Isn’t that Derek’s car?” Scott asked making a face as Stiles glanced up, sure he’d been imaging it. Definitely sure he’d been imagining it. And yet there it was, black and sleek, parked next to the Jeep with Derek leaning against the hood.

“Is it?” Stiles asked and earned himself a great look from Scott as he shook his head and rolled his eyes before starting towards the car.

Stiles waited a moment then trailed on after him, tugging at his backpack strap, not sure what to say to the older man. What did they say? He’d seen him almost daily for the past few weeks, but they never said anything. All communication was done in either looks or grunts or a gentle shove of arms and legs. How was that anything to go on whatsoever? “What are you doing here?” Scott was asking as Stiles got close enough to hear.

“Looking for you,” Derek said only offering the most fleeting of glances in Stiles’ direction as if the boy wasn’t there and they hadn’t woken up within inches of one another just this morning. While before he wouldn’t have thought anything of it, now that lack of being noticed hurt like hell. Like being punched in the gut hurt. What he was just nothing now?

“Yeah and you couldn’t have gone to his house or his work or whatever you just had to lurk outside the high school like some grade-a super creep?” Stiles heard himself say, and realized after the fact it was mostly just to get Derek’s attention, to force him to look at him. Calling the same guy who shared his bed a creep was a guarantee to make sure he decided to rethink that behavior, so that was probably pretty stupid and made him look beyond childish.

“And to give me a ride home,” a sing-songy voice said behind him and Stiles stilled himself against the inevitable Erica touch which grazed across his lower back. “And here I thought you would have been okay with that.” The last part was low, just around Stiles’ ear, but they were dealing with werewolves. Scott and Derek both heard it and at least Scott reacted with a wide-eyed glance. Derek mostly just continued to ignore everything, especially Stiles.

Stiles shouldn’t have been surprised that Erica’s head found its way on to his shoulder. “Trouble in paradise hmm?”  
“Shut up,” Stiles answered, though what else could he say? Yes. Things were apparently awful when he thought they were fine. Thought they were better than fine but he was oh so wrong. It was nothing, not a thing, not even a something. 

“No worries Batman. You’ll always have me,” she promised and leaned in to kiss his cheek before bouncing around to the passenger side of the Camaro. That kiss should have given him fits, but instead he just wanted to punch something again. He was turning into some sort of rage monster. Must be some sort of painful side effect of befriending werewolves.

Derek offered him yet another fleeting glance as he finished up talking to Scott and got in the car. Nothing. Absolutely nothing. Maybe he’d dreamed all of it from weeks ago to now. And if he was dreaming it, he had the most vivid of dreams and a very weird and twisted mind. And now he really liked this guy, like really liked this guy and he apparently did not even care.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> already slipping on the prompt table. One just doesn't fit, so consider this promptless. 
> 
> I didn't get a beta and only proofed it once b/c I wanted to get it up before I went out of town. apologies for whatever glaring errors/typos I made.

“Did something happen with your dad again?” Scott blurted from the passenger seat when the Jeep pulled onto his street. 

“What? No. Why?” Stiles asked, glancing away from the road to look at Scott. 

“You haven’t said anything in thirteen minutes. This is the most uncomfortable drive we’ve had in months. Actually it’s close to the time you kept the wolfsbane in the car and I almost changed and ate you.” 

Stiles looked at the clock, then the road and realized Scott was right. He’d been stuck in his own thoughts for the drive and sort of just assumed Scott was talking about something uninteresting. Like Allison and her hair or whatever. Or Derek. 

“What did Derek want?” 

Scott gave Stiles a look that clearly said his sudden question was out of left field, but it was obvious that he was also relieved that they were talking. “Same as before really. Something’s been killing animals in the woods. He wanted to know if I’d done it and when I told him no, then he had his usual list of warnings about things and to be safe.”

Stiles waited a breath as if something more might come and then waved his hands a little. “That’s it?” 

“Yeah we talked for two minutes, what more did you want? He’s not exactly chatty.” 

“You can say that again,” Stiles grumbled and went back to looking at the road, mentally counting the houses until he got to Scott’s like he had the first time he drove there. Fourth house on the left: one, two, three, four. Even though he knew it better than his own house he still counted. 

“Seriously dude, is everything okay?” Scott wasn’t getting out of the car despite being in front of his house, instead he was just sitting there, waiting for Stiles to answer and Stiles realized he actually had to answer. Otherwise Scott might be a real friend and just never leave.

“Yeah. Tired or something. I didn’t sleep well.” 

Scott looked as if he clearly didn’t believe him at all, but like he didn’t know what to say otherwise. It was kind of cruel to just leave him hanging like that, but Stiles chalked it up to the millions of times Scott had been a bad friend to him in the past few months. One time didn’t quite make up for making out with the girl of his dreams or just plain ignoring everything he said. “Okay. Thanks for the ride.” Scott lingered for a moment longer then jumped out of the Jeep and started towards his house. 

Once he was inside Stiles started the car again, but didn’t drive home. Instead he just drove around in circles until the sun started to set and it was late enough that he wasn’t surprised to see his father’s cruiser outside of the house. 

“Stiles?” 

The plan had been to see if he could make it straight to his room to sulk but his father caught him before he could make it through the kitchen. “Yeah Dad?” he asked, slowing and tugging at his backpack strap again. 

The sheriff rested his hands on the table, over his paperwork spread there, as he watched his son. “Practice run late?” he asked, obviously expecting an answer that wasn’t about practice. He probably drove by the field on the way home even if that would be the long way home.

“Uh no. Just…driving.” 

His father nodded, looking down at the table and then back at his son again. “Is there anything you want to talk about Stiles?” 

Stiles looked back towards his room then back at his father. “Not really…Is there something we should be talking about?” Maybe Derek was in his room now, having come to the door for once and there was a real conversation that needed to be had about former murder suspects were calling on his son, why men in general were calling on his son and multitude of lies Stiles would be caught in at just the mere appearance of Derek. 

For a moment Sheriff Stilinski studied his son, almost as if he was seeing something that Stiles couldn’t place, but then he was shaking his head. “No, nothing. Just wondering.” 

Which meant no Derek. Stiles lingered for a moment longer before nodding. “I’m gonna…homework. You know.” He took a step back and waited until his father nodded before dashing back to his room and shutting the door behind him. 

The room, as expected and yet dreaded, was empty. The window had been left open despite the chill of the night air that had Stiles pulling his sweatshirt around him tighter. “You’d think the Sheriff’s kid would know better,” he mumbled to himself as he closed the window but didn’t lock it. 

Derek would come tonight. He’d have to come tonight. And this time they’d talk. Stiles would stay awake and they’d actually talk about things. Or they’d talk about things that weren’t things. Either way, they’d clear this mess up so he’d stop feeling so god damn abandoned. That was the point of admitting to being pack, to being Derek’s, to not feel abandoned. Tossing his bag aside, he sat down at his desk, waking up his computer if only for the distraction. Awake. Awake is the goal and he’ll stay awake until Derek shows up.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry the update was delayed!! But here it is! Enjoy!
> 
> chapter theme - 26. exposed

When the alarm went off Stiles’ face was flat on the desk, drooling somewhere near his hand that was still holding a pencil he’d been doodling with when he fell asleep. Sleeping hadn’t been the plan, even after four am when it was obvious he wasn’t going to have a visitor, but apparently it had won out for a few hours. Groaning, he looked back at the bed, trying to launch the pencil in the direction of the alarm and missing widely. 

The bed was empty, no less rumpled than it had been the night before and his room just as abandoned as it had been the day before. No Derek. Not anywhere. He’d been stood up for a date he didn’t even really have a justification in guessing would happen. 

With almost no sleep under his belt, Stiles stumbled his way through the day and into lunch, staring at a text from Scott that said he was eating with Allison. Stiles wasn’t naïve enough to not realize that meant Scott was somewhere making out with Allison, but for once he just typed ‘ok’ as a response and buried his head in his arms, intent on sleeping through the period. 

“What’s wrong kitten?” 

The voice was paired with a set of nails, not the supernatural claw kind, but regular girl kind, sifting through the hair along the back of his neck. “I thought you were Catwoman,” he grumbled, not looking up at Erica in hopes she got the picture and just left. 

“That would be cat- _woman_ , which is different from what you are, which is a kitten. A little lost, tired kitten.” She stroked at the back of his neck again and Stiles honestly hated that it actually felt nice. He was tired. That was it. He wasn’t the type to be so touchy, not in this way at least, but it was soothing and he started to think of other people who could do the same thing, which plummeted him back to abandoned feeling he’d been suffering through since yesterday.

“Go away.” 

When she laughed it always varied. Sometimes it bordered on a cackle, something almost evil sounding, but today it was soft, something like bells, and it sent a chill up Stiles’ spine, but not the bad kind of chill, the good kind. Distantly his sleep addled mind wanted her to laugh like that again, over and over again. “So you sleep just as restlessly as he does without you…interesting.” She kept her hand at his neck, stroking the skin, the hair, anything she could reach. 

Her touch was really starting to make his skin almost itch with anticipation and after a moment he moved, pulling away from her and ignoring the hurt look she gave him. “I’m sure he sleeps fine without me. I’m sure he’s always fine without me.” _He doesn’t need me. I need him._ Even if he meant the words to be biting, they came out hurt and Stiles ducked his eyes away from Erica’s. 

Erica shifted her chair closer, propping her chin in her hand as she looked at him. “It’s that kind of bad now is it?” she asked, though hardly seemed like she needed an answer, which meant Stiles was fine with ignoring the question. “I know how it feels though, being turned down by the big, bad Alpha,” she continued, one hand drifting like she might touch Stiles again, but not getting there. 

“He didn’t turn me down,” Stiles blurted, turning to look at her, expecting to see that impish grin she had when she was teasing, but her features were the complete opposite. She wasn’t teasing him at all. For once she actually looked understanding, like she knew. 

“And he didn’t turn me down either, just said he had other plans for me.” She shrugged one shoulder then traced a design on the table, fingers less than an inch from touching him again. “I try not to let it bother me. He has issues and I had someone else in mind anyway. I just assumed that was what he wanted with me. That was the package the gift was delivered in.” 

Stiles’ mouth opened wordlessly twice before his cheeks went too pink to look at her. “Who did you have in mind?” he asked, anything to get off the topic of who Derek wanted and who he didn’t want and what his possible plans for people might be outside of what Stiles had in mind for himself. He knew the part about Derek not wanting Erica like that, but it didn’t reassure him in anyway for how Derek wanted him. Maybe Stiles would luck out with the new conversation direction and she’d be too embarrassed to answer because it was Isaac or Scott or something and she’d leave. 

“I told you about that a while ago kitten,” Erica murmured, just barely loud enough for Stiles to hear her. “Just because I was angry didn’t mean that it changed.” 

It was a slow movement to look back at her and stare at her like he’d seen a ghost. How had that not changed? Hadn’t he done nothing but give her reasons for that to change? “Erica, I…” What did he say? He liked a wolf that used him as a human teddy bear? How was that going to answer any questions, give her something that wasn’t yet another rejection? 

“Stop,” she told him, holding up a hand before flipping her hair over one shoulder like it was nothing. “Just think about it. Maybe you’d like it and it sure beats waiting around for his approval. I know that better than anyone else.” There was a brief moment where she wasn’t the terrifying girl who’d threatened his life more than once and she’d gone back to being a the girl she was before Derek. It faded as quickly as it appeared and that assuredness reappeared, leaving Stiles to just stare at her as she walked away from him.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter Prompt - #96 Bruised
> 
> this is unbeta'd, all mistakes are mine

Two more nights passed and still no Derek. Stiles had at least slept some, but not well, and it was starting to take a toll on his ability to function in society. By the end of the third day he’d suffered through a downright brutal lacrosse practice, which included taking a stick to just under his eye, courtesy of Jackson. 

When he trudged out to his jeep, he had a bag of ice held against his face and his head down to hide the puffy black eye that was already showing. “Hey Batman.” He wasn’t expecting anyone to be waiting by his car so when she spoke he jumped right out of his skin. 

“You know you could have killed me doing that right?” Stiles demanded, voice almost shrill even though Erica continued to smile at him. 

“Looks like someone already tried.” Erica reached forward to move his hand so she could see his face. Stiles couldn’t fight the wince when she touched him, but he wasn’t sure which part he was wincing about, the touch or the pain. 

“Jackson’s an asshole. He thinks he’s a big puppy dog and he forgets that I’m a measly mortal human.” Which he wasn’t. He was a terrifying create who liked to play rough. “You waiting for Isaac?” Stiles asked and ducked his head again, pushing the ice pack against his eye. 

“Nope,” Erica said as she pulled her hand away when he winced. “Waiting on you. Wanted to see if you’d thought about things.” She leaned against the car and watched him, obviously wanting an answer of some sort. 

Stiles turned away again, fiddling with the car keys in the door while he delayed his answer. The short answer was yes, he’d thought about it plenty, about how it might actually be fun, how it would certainly make up for a few things. How despite her moments of being creepy, Erica was still pretty damn gorgeous and that even now that she looked like she did she wanted him was something that bordered on intoxicating. What it didn’t change though was that she wasn’t Derek and he was pretty sure he was stuck on the Alpha as what he needed. And that was just skimming the surface of the multitude of issues he had just as Stiles. 

“It’s not that easy Erica,” he started once the car door opened and he was forced to look at her again. 

“I know,” she said, still relaxed in her demeanor. “You’re cut off, you’re alone and contact means more than you’re willing to admit.” She drifted closer to him and Stiles felt his breath catch in his throat. Why hadn’t he noticed that she wasn’t wearing heels? That she was that much shorter than him. “Who do you let touch you?” she asked one hand out but not touching him yet. 

Stiles swallowed at the lump in this throat, trying to get it to go away but his voice came out slightly croakier at first. “My dad, Scott…Derek.” 

“No Lydia, no Allison, not even really Jackson right?” Erica asked, head tilted to the side as she looked up at him. 

“No. Lydia is off limits and Allison and I aren’t close and Jackson just shoves me into things,” Stiles said, babbling a little. 

“And me,” Erica added, touching his shirt and pulling him towards her so lightly that he could have missed it, but at the same time he couldn’t miss it. Not with what they were saying. Without any real thought to it he was stepping closer with a nod. 

“And you. Though you tend to threaten me.” 

Erica laughed again and it was something closer to that sound she’d made a few days before, something light and pleasing. “And you wouldn’t kill me to protect those you love? You wouldn’t be as brutal as possible to keep Scott or your dad safe? Even as a human you have a darker side than most of the wolves I know.” 

There was a moment that lingered between them before Stiles smirked and nodded again. “Of course I would. I’ve saved your life that way. And so what if I’m dark?” He’d been dark since his mother died. He followed that up with being cut off from everyone, just like she said and now he was best friends with werewolves. Dark was like a default setting. 

“I’ve always liked the darkness. It’s how you’re like him, Derek. And it’s all appealing.” Erica tugged at his shirt a little bit more, though this time it was a more obvious movement. “I’m giving you a chance to stop being so lonely. I know I’m not him, but I’m someone.” 

There was a big part of it that didn’t feel completely right, that felt like using Erica, but she was here, pulling at his shirt and he went with it. She wanted it didn’t she? She knew where his mind was at, what was going on with him, better than most people did apparently. He probably could have hesitated, but if he had, he wouldn’t have done it and she was pulling him closer. Stiles surprised himself when he kissed her, one hand along the back of her neck to pull her into it, but she surprised him more when she answered it greedily. 

It wasn’t at all what he’d planned, but she was right, it felt good to actually feel wanted, to answer one kiss with another, to have a beyond attractive girl wrap her arms around his neck and kiss him like he mattered. So Stiles went with it, forcing himself to be fine with being the guy making out with a girl in the parking lot.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> un-beta'd errors are mine
> 
> no prompt for this chapter (sorry)

Sleeping with Erica was completely different than with Derek. For starters, she never snuck in without waking him up once she was there, pulling him in for more of those heated kisses that Stiles had actually started to get used to. Once she was asleep she was usually short at least some article of clothing and it was completely legitimate to wake up with bare skin on bare skin. For a guy who wasn’t too keen on physical contact, he liked that feeling an awful lot. 

She never slept far away from him, always with at least her hands on him, but usually she was just curled up next to him, head on his chest or tucked against his shoulder. In the mornings she never left right when the alarm went off. Instead she lingered, close to where he was saying sweet things or just lamenting that she had to leave until he really did have to get up so he wouldn’t be late. 

She wasn’t always at his side during the day, but she occasionally slipped into his peripheral vision, watching him in a way that made him smile when he caught her eye. It wasn’t serious, but Stiles was starting to wonder if he actually had a girlfriend. Maybe. Maybe not. He really didn’t mind one way or another. He knew she was there, that was enough.

“He hates when I’m here,” Erica murmured against his chest, kissing the skin there before propping her chin up so she could see Stiles. She’d crawled in his window not long after his father went to bed and now after a heated make out session, she looked relaxed and sleepy, enough to make Stiles smirk at her. 

“Does he?” They rarely talked about Derek even though he seemed to hover on the edge of their pseudo-relationship. It didn’t help that Stiles hadn’t seen the man in weeks, not since Erica had become more of a staple to his life. 

“Mmhmm,” she said with a hum, kissing his chest again. “He can tell when I smell like you and doesn’t stand near me. He just grumps more. Then complains about something bad coming.” 

Stiles didn’t know what to make of that, content to be here with Erica, fingers drifting into her hair, but there was a slight ache in his stomach for someone who didn’t want him. Apparently he was excellent at holding on to crushes long after it was obvious there was no hope for it amounting to anything. “He could be here if he wanted to. Obviously he’s not. He’s avoided me since…the day he showed up in the parking lot.” 

Erica nodded, turning to look at the tattoo on the inside of Stiles’ arm that made him pack, her pack and not just Scott’s pack. It was an interesting thing, the way that Stiles seemed to straddle both packs when half the members weren’t entirely sure if he liked them or not. Peter didn’t know, and Isaac was almost certain Stiles wouldn’t cry if he died. “I don’t think it’s a matter of not wanting to be here. I think it’s him not knowing what to do.” 

Stiles shook his head and shifted so his head was propped up more on the pillow. “He’s not an idiot, he could figure it out. It’s really not that hard. He’d just have to you know, show up.” Which was the unfortunate truth. Stiles would be completely okay with Derek just starting to show up again, no explanation needed. He’d just go along with it and probably be happy about it. 

Erica was quiet for a long breath and Stiles instantly wondered what he’d said wrong. Maybe he shouldn’t have pointed out how desperate he was when it came to Derek. When she shifted away from him, sitting up more with the sheet pulled up against her chest, he panicked, reaching out with his tattooed arm to keep her from leaving. 

She shook her head slowly, then ran a fingernail along the line of his tattoo. “Do you know why we haven’t had sex yet Stiles?” she asked, raising one eyebrow in his direction when she glanced at him sideways. 

“I…uh. No?” he asked not sure what she was getting at and feeling his cheeks flush in response. He’d thought about doing that sure, but he hadn’t pushed her since he was pretty sure that was rule number one as to how to keep a girl making out with you, not force her into things. Plus Erica seemed to have a pretty good handle on what she wanted and he was fine with following along with her. 

She hummed to herself for a moment, still tracing his tattoo. “No guesses? I thought you were the one with all the answers.” 

The bait was obvious but he took it anyway, sitting up. “Well you know I’ve read things about mating and such, but I couldn’t tell you what’s true and what’s not.” 

“All of it is. Wolves mate for life,” Erica said slowly before glancing at him from under tousled tresses. “That’s why. I’m not…you’re not.” 

Stiles was quiet, tugging at the edge of the sheet without looking at her. She was right, knowing full well neither of them was ready. He was still hung up on Derek in a way and obviously not forever invested in Erica. And Erica was young. Someone better was bound to come along. “Scott and Allison?”   
“I don’t think they know, but you have to have guessed it when he told her he’d wait for her. When she tried to kill me and Boyd and he was fine with it.” They might not be as much of pack as they were before, but that was still something most people weren’t okay with. 

“I did, I just didn’t want to say something.” Stiles tugged at the sheet again then looked at her. “Is that what you want? For us to get there?” 

Erica was quiet for a long moment then shifted back towards Stiles. “No. Or…not really. I haven’t thought about that part too much. Just knowing what would happen. But that’s not why I brought it up, I meant because of Derek. Why he doesn’t know what to do.” 

“He doesn’t want to mate with me,” Stiles blurted, shaking his head. There was no way that was it. He wasn’t even _here_. He didn’t speak when he was here. That couldn’t be it. 

“We thought he already had,” Erica pointed out as she poked at his tattoo. “That’s what we thought this meant. That you two were…bound.” She smoothed her hand over it then looked up at him again. “I was pretty surprised to find out that wasn’t the case.” 

Stiles wanted to pull his arm away, not feeling comfortable under her touch, but he resisted. “That’s not what that means.” He wasn’t even sure what it meant anymore. At first it had been because it was cool and then Derek had changed it, told him it meant pack, meant that he was Derek’s, but where was Derek now?

“I know. And I know that there’s something else going on with him. Isaac and I talked about it one night. We think he was bound to someone else.” 

“What?” Stiles demanded, surprised at forcefully that hit him. It felt like someone had just shoved the air out of his lungs as hard as possible and he felt himself gasp for air he didn’t have. “Who?” 

Erica shrugged before resting her head against his shoulder. “I have no idea. But maybe that’s it. Maybe he can’t. Maybe he doesn’t know how to work around it. Because…it’s not that he doesn’t want to be here. That’s obvious in how much he hates that I’m here.” 

It was a new habit that had Stiles twisting his fingers in her hair and leaning his head into hers as she snuggled close. He certainly wasn’t feeling it, not like he had before, but he still did it. She settled against him, breathing starting to even and he wondered if she knew what thoughts she’d stirred up in his mind, why it was running a million directions about who Derek could have loved, who he might still love. There was no way she didn’t know. Maybe she needed Stiles to know as well, that he hadn’t been rejected and that he had to choose between them. In a few moments Erica was asleep, but while he stopped moving so she could rest Stiles was sure he was in for another sleepless night.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> un-beta'd, so mistakes are mine
> 
> no prompt for the chapter

“You’d think at some point they’d realize that continuing to vandalize this place is pointless. It’s already half burned down. It’s not like it’s really gonna make that big of a difference if you bust out half the windows,” Stiles said as he closed the Jeep door outside of the Hale house. 

“Makes enough of a difference,” Scott said, frowning at the building. “Looks worse than usual.” 

Stiles shrugged and followed after Scott. “You sure he asked you to bring me? You aren’t just bringing me for back up for something?” 

Scott glanced back at his friend and nodded. “He said to bring you too. So it must be big.” 

“Thanks, only call me in when the situation is dire, I see how it is. What that means is you wolves need someone to save your asses. Again.” Which was the explanation Stiles was going for and not the one where Derek only asked for him to show up with there was no other choice. That would imply that Stiles had been removed from the pack he had so eagerly joined when given the offer. 

Of course being here also meant that Stile was walking into an actual wolf den full of people who knew exactly how quickly his bed partners had changed and it was painfully obvious once Stiles got the guts to look up from his shoes. There they were, Jackson, Isaac, Boyd, Peter, and Erica, all staring at him standing in the doorway of what once was a living room while Derek dutifully ignored him. So it was definitely going to go like that. 

“Finally,” the Alpha grumbled, turning his eyes on Scott. “We have a problem and it’s more than we can handle on our own.” Scott moved to join Isaac and Stiles watched with an unspoken jealousy as Isaac touched his shoulder, something casual, reconnecting the two of them, re-bonding their friendship in a touch. It left Stiles in the doorway by himself, aware of just how much space he was taking up, how uneven his breathing was and how loud his heartbeat was. Stiles didn’t have that physical connection with anyone beyond Scott or so he thought until he felt Erica’s cool fingers touch his wrist. It was something gentle and not too obvious, but there enough to count. He knew the others would hear the sigh, but Stiles let it out nonetheless. He couldn’t help that he felt better with her there. 

“More than your whole pack can handle? What kind of big deal are we talking about?” Scott asked, looking at Derek incredulously. 

“The kind of big deal that takes down an entire hunting party? The kind where I wouldn’t call you if it wasn’t. I’m not stupid Scott this is huge.” Derek was obviously annoyed, eyes only barely looking towards Stiles and Erica, though Stiles did feel Erica pull away. 

“An entire hunting party? You’re joking.” 

“No, I’m not really the joking type. It looks like two weres, but not wolves. What kind of were I’m not sure. Maybe a demon, maybe something else,” Derek explained. 

“What do you mean kind of were?” Scott looked around for an explanation.

“Other animals,” Stiles piped in, ducking his eyes once Derek’s were on his. “Cats, foxes, coyotes. Same as you, but they are based in different animals, they have different instincts, different mannerisms, they’re the basis for different legends.” When he glanced up Derek was watching him, something different in his eyes for an instant before he was looking back at Scott, just as hard as ever. 

“What do they want with us?” Scott asked, eyes wide in confusion. 

“I can’t tell. Territory at best or just to do something at worst. They seem psychotic, which doesn’t really help the matter. They’re playing with us, causing problems on the edge of our territory, trying to draw us out and ambush us. I don’t want to be ambushed, I’d rather do that myself.” Derek was shaking his head. “We need to draw them out, then we take them down.” 

“Only problem is, you don’t know how to draw them out without setting up an ambush, it’s not an easy bit of bait to set. Even with Scott and Stiles your pack is still small,” Peter pointed out, sounding disinterested in the conversation. 

“Well I know one way that worked,” Stiles suggested. “Worked on you.” He gave Peter a nod who wound up just smirking a little. “Same trick the Argents used on Boyd and Erica. We make one sound like a lot more.” And by one he definitely meant himself.

“Always knew you were the smart one Stiles,” Peter cooed in a way that sent a shiver up Stiles spine. Peter might be more on their side these days but that didn’t make Stiles start to actually trust him. Part of him almost expected Peter to just sneakily chomp at him to see if he’d turn into a werewolf. 

“No.” Derek said it before Stiles could even explain his idea properly.

“What? You didn’t even let me finish you just shut me down instantly.” Stiles didn’t know what that meant at all, but he was sure he wasn’t okay with it. 

“I didn’t need to. What are the odds you get hurt in your idea Stiles?” Derek said, turning his eyes on him, engaging him for the first time in what felt like weeks. It wasn’t just a glance or a passing moment of attention, Derek was focused on Stiles, as if no one else was in the room and Stiles felt his blood run warm.

Biting back a multitude of feelings, Stiles tilted his head back and forth and shrugged. “Pretty good, but odds are always pretty good.” Because if he was involved, odds were he was getting hurt. 

“Then no. You aren’t getting hurt. You aren’t bait Stiles.” 

Stiles wanted to roll his eyes but that cut to his core. Derek still thought to protect Stiles, like he said he would. Stiles opened his mouth twice to answer but the words didn’t come right away, at least not after another breath. “Someone has to be.” 

“The kid has a point,” Peter added earning himself a glare from Derek. 

“Come on Derek, let me set the trap, you swoop in and kick their asses. It’s either that or I swoop in and save your ass,” Stiles said watching the muscles in Derek’s jaw twitch with frustration. “Derek I can do this. Someone needs to and they won’t expect a human waiting for them.” 

Derek closed his eyes for a moment then let out a sharp breath before turning on Stiles. “You run. The moment things get iffy you _run_.”

“Of course. What you think I’m going to let some werecat or demon or whatever else awful thing that wants to kill you because you’re an Alpha kill me? Right, no thanks. That’s not in my job description.” Because he didn’t have a title that dedicated him to the pack any more than he thought he might. And that showed in his features, obvious enough for Derek to see it. For an instant it looked like Derek saw it, that he maybe, possibly felt the same way, but then he was serious again, focus turned away from Stiles and back to the pack as a whole. 

“Alright then we need a plan.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Some slight inconsistencies that you might not have noticed, but I want to point out my reasoning behind just in case:
> 
> \- Peter's part of the pack now, though I never really wrote him into things before. With the end of Season 2 I feel like yeah he'd be pack, and maybe no one really trusts him, but he's the sassy uncle you can't get rid of. So bear with his sudden appearance in things. It's more fun for him to be sassy than Jackson anyway. I think he fits fine where he comes in here, but if you compare to The Road Untraveld you might be annoyed with me.
> 
> \- I've written Isaac before as not being very close with Stiles, though I have him here with Scott being friends. I feel like that's essentially the case. My head-cannon doesn't have Isaac doing a ton to prove his worth to Stiles so while he and Scott might be friendly and he and Stiles are still rocky.


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> beta'd by me
> 
> chapter prompt: #15 Broken
> 
> Edit: this bit was inspired by [this fic / artwork](http://rrrowr.tumblr.com/post/28956101914). Which I love. Hopefully people understand and don't get pissed.

When Stiles came to it was because someone had splashed ice cold water in his face. He was only slightly shocked that someone or something was holding his arms behind him and had him forced to his knees. He wasn’t entirely surprised at the pain radiating from a variety of different places, what he guessed were new cuts, scrapes and bruises that weren’t there an hour ago. Hopefully it was just an hour, he had no idea how long he’d been out, but he could taste blood in his mouth after spitting out the worst of the water and he guessed that was a bad sign, a really bad sign 

The plan had been simple: Stiles plus his Jeep and a loudspeaker sort of system went out into the woods, on the edges of the Hale property and made a commotion. Trouble would show up, then the wolves would converge on said trouble, take out the bad guys and Stiles could go home to bed before dawn to not sleep and contemplate just how awful the sense of longing for Derek was. . Simple plan, easily executed.

But the wolves had never swooped in like planned. The bad guys had showed up just as expected and instead of being a group of something Stiles felt prepared to handle, they were what appeared to be two panther-like werecats, a fucking vampire—who looked more feral than the cats—and what was probably a demon armed with some well used weapons. 

Stiles remembered his one real instruction, the one that came yelling at him when the descended on him, to run, but he didn’t really get anywhere. Human was not as fast as werecats designed to run quickly and the vampire seemed as if he hadn’t been fed in years and was pretty set on drinking Stiles’ blood. A short chase that had started with Stiles going over the hood of his Jeep, away from the fake howling, assuming that Derek would appear at any moment, ended with Stiles being knocked to the ground, wind rushing out of his lungs as something bit hard at his leg. The next round of pain came from something actually sitting on him, but that didn’t last too long before he took something to the temple and blacked out. 

Which left him here, somewhere dark and dank—which his mind processed as being completely cliché—absolutely vulnerable with arms he could barely move without pain searing across his shoulders and legs he couldn’t get under him. Though he couldn’t shift enough to stand, he was starting to wonder if his legs would even hold him. Probably not was the easy guess.

At the sound of laughter he kept his head down, an attempt to guard himself from any impending danger, but long fingers tilted his chin upward and Stiles found himself staring at a particularly gruesome smile. “We go looking for a pack of wolf cubs and we find a human cub with a speaker bigger than his head instead.” Stiles winced and tried to jerk his chin away but that just yielded more laughter as whatever it was knelt to look him in the eye. 

This wasn’t the demon who’d grabbed him, this was someone else entirely which meant there were more than the four he’d counted. If the other hadn’t come there was a strong chance that they weren’t coming. “Maybe it’s just been me all along. Funny, almost had you scared didn’t I?” 

“Oh I doubt that’s the case little one. But Alpha wolves don’t typically collect human boys. You must be special if you’re part of Derek’s pack…” Up close it looked more human, and it could have been if its eyes weren’t a crazy color and its teeth didn’t look sharper than the werecat that was holding on to Stiles. 

“I’m no one to him,” Stiles said shaking his head and fighting against those holding his arms to no avail. He believed it, but he didn’t want to and though he didn’t want the pain to show through, the pain came through, filtering into his voice and filling his eyes. 

The demon cackled again and shook its head. “Hardly. You’re someone’s. Everything about you says pet and you reek of wolf. I bet they share you. I can’t blame entirely them, precious thing that you are, though I think now that Antonio’s had a taste of you, he’s not going to want to share.” The demon turned its head to look at something and Stiles followed to line of sight to see the feral vampire bare its fangs at him. 

“That thing has a name?” he quipped, unable to stop the flow of commentary in any situation, even this one that he might very well not survive. 

“It does, but most pets have names. All of mine do. I was thinking I might add a wolf to it, but your pack seems set on being an opposition rather than an addition. No skin off my back though, something tells me bringing your little pack down might be more fun then adopting a surly dog. My pets would probably enjoy that more than I would enjoy being able to call Beacon Hills home. And I’d enjoy claiming Beacon Hills quite bit.” 

_I’m gonna die_ , flashed through Stiles’ mind, and he had to wonder just why he’d let himself get involved with this. He could have made other friends. He should have just dumped Scott’s sorry werewolf ass the first time he almost got killed and not just stuck with it like some sort of nitwit. “Beacon Hills isn’t really all that great. School system’s mediocre at best considering even though he was failing they let the captain of the lacrosse team keep playing, it’s not even a real city yet, prone to violence, not the best weather. I’d head farther south if you were really looking to capitalize on some real estate.” One of Stiles’ arms was jerked back harder, pulling it in a way he was sure was bound to pop it out of its socket and he couldn’t hold back the yelp of pain. 

The demon laughed, fingers trailing across Stiles’ face again. “Oh I have no interest in real estate, just in chaos and this place, this place is very well suited for chaos. When I’m done? Most of or all of them will be dead. Wiped out. I can’t wait.” 

“So you’re just straight crazy. Good to know,” Stiles murmured, surprised that he was still able to chatter like he wasn’t about to die. Maybe it was because he knew he was. 

“Crazy’s a relative term. You’re trying to kill me, why can’t I enjoy killing you instead? Are you telling me the boy who runs with wolves doesn’t have a darkness that would celebrate my death? I can see in your eyes you would. Don’t start playing the golden hearted hero on me when I know that’s not what you are.” The demon tilted his chin up again, studying Stiles for a long moment. “I was going to keep you, sure you were important, but at this point I think you’re more useful to me broken than much else. They knew exactly what you were useful for, the perfect bait. There’s really no point in me doubting that assumption.” It stood again, leaving Stiles alone on the ground and sure that this was it, the end. Scott had better throw him one hell of a funeral. Maybe Derek would even show up and cry or something the resembled giving a damn. “Have fun,” he heard the demon tell the werecats before his left forearm snapped and he howled in pain. 

For a moment he could see the demon walking away, then the vampire was in his face and lunging, searing pain radiating from his collarbone. He was definitely going to die.


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> beta'd by me. no prompt for this chapter

With an angry growl Derek hit the side of the Jeep so hard it left a dent, but the pain in his hand did little to ease his frustration. This fell squarely into ‘not what Derek had in mind for this plan’. Whatever was hunting them figured it out first and his pack ran into troubles they couldn’t quite shake in the forest too far away from Stiles. He heard the recorded howls stop, but he couldn’t leave, he couldn’t abandon his pack in the middle of a fight they were losing. All he could do was hope that Stiles ran as told.

By the time they’d run off whatever was after them, the Jeep was abandoned, speaker broken on the ground and the area tinged with the coppery smell of blood. Whatever they were? Derek was sure they had Stiles. 

Derek knew full well he hadn’t dealt with things regarding Stiles well and he had a list of excuse as to why that was the case, why he was waiting, why he was avoiding things being anything more than sleep. All of it meant absolutely nothing the moment he smelled Stiles, sharp and tinged, on Erica. Whatever his bullshit reasons for not being better about taking what he wanted, about accepting his own past so he could move forward, they were pointless now. Stiles belonged to someone else, someone he was grabbing by the jacket and pointing towards the woods. 

“Erica, you need to find him. Now. You’re going to be able to pick up his scent better than any of us.”

“What?” the girl stammered, obviously worried, obviously a step short of terrified. “Why me? You know his scent as well as I do and you’re the better tracker!” 

“You’re bound to him, you’re going to sense it faster than me or even Scott could pick up on it. We need to find him now Erica or they’ll kill him. You have to feel it, something dragging you to him?” It was a pull Derek had fought for years after Kate had killed his family. The young wolves wondered why it was so easy for him to use anger as his anchor, but Derek knew the truth, anger was what got him through life in general. Without it he might have just run back to Kate, a sobbing mess that needed her no matter how deep the betrayal. 

Erica jerked herself out of Derek’s hold, stumbling backwards until she tripped on her own feet and fell down shaking her head. “We’re not…I’m not. It’s not like that. I’m not any better at this.” The fear in her was rising, filling the air between them and Derek realized he’d been wrong about things yet again. She wasn’t panicking because her mate was lost, she was panicking part because Stiles was missing, but more because of how Derek himself was reacting. 

Rubbing his forehead he looked back at Scott, needing help. “Can you track him?” Scott nodded, one hand reaching out to grab Isaac and pull him with him. 

“We’ll split up,” Scott said already starting with Isaac. “Howl if you find him.” 

*****

The first of Scott’s howls echoed through Derek, just as they would for any true Alpha, his pack, calling him in a time of need and he knew full well he didn’t have to tell Erica or Peter to follow him when he turned to run in a different direction. The second set of howls though, those were different, the noises more pained, panicked, and even though Scott wasn’t fully pack, Isaac, Boyd and Jackson were and their mimicked noises had him moving faster. What he needed was to get there, to them, and now.

Derek skidded onto the scene just as a werecat came at Isaac spear-like ramming Derek’s young wolf into the ground. Growling he took after it, claws out, teeth barred as he pounced on its back, rolling them off of Isaac and into a slashing and gnawing mess on the ground. Derek could barely smell Stiles, but the werecat that was trying to tear at his throat took priority and Derek focused on that instead. Sinking his claws into its stomach, he rolled again, biting at skin, and slashing at its throat until it went limp under him. 

He pushed the hopefully dead cat away and looked up at the rest of the crowd, taking a moment to get a handle on the surroundings. The air had smelled wet, like standing water, but once he figured out where they were the smell of water wasn’t as upsetting. They were at the water treatment plant, which sat on the outskirts of town and was almost abandoned most of the time. Derek would have picked it for himself if he’d been planning something similar. 

Stiles was almost impossible to find scent wise which had Derek looking for his next victim. Anything that stood between him and the human was going down, as quick as he could muster it. Erica and Boyd had their hands full with another were, while Jackson, who was technically the youngest wolf of them all, was tangling with a demon, despite the fact that the demon had a nasty weapon in hand that looked an awful lot like a hand held scythe. Just as Derek readied to help out his pup, Jackson ducked low to avoid a blow and countered by sinking his teeth and claws into thigh and calf, enough to bring the demon’s legs out from under him. Apparently there was something to be said for natural talent. 

Derek had turned away from Jackson leaping on the back of the demon to help Peter tangle with something else when he heard shouting that sounded like Scott from inside the building. Without any additional thought he was bounding that way, sliding on damp floor into the single, concrete floor room of the building, blinking as his eyes adjusted to different light just before something swung at him. He narrowly missed catching whatever it was in the face, instead catching damage on his shoulder. Whatever it was though was slower and while it felt like teeth had dug into Derek’s shoulder he was grabbing whatever it was by the hair to throw it away. 

It was enough for Derek to steal a moment to survey the room, blood starting to run down his arm from the not yet healed wound. This room reeked of Stiles, as if he’d been drug around it, his scent marking every inch, but beyond that it reeked of blood. It was Scott’s voice that pulled Derek from the barrage of scents, none adding up properly.

“Wake up Stiles, come on, wake up.” Derek spotted them, Isaac with wolf teeth bared, guarding a crouched Scott who was back in teenaged boy mode, half shaking at a limp figure in the corner. Stiles, broken, bloody and not responding to anything Scott was doing. There was too much noise for him to pick out a specific breathing, a specific heartbeat, not on the other side of the room from them, and in a weak moment Derek assumed the worst.

Derek only got a step in that direction, fear, anger, and agony coursing through his entire being, before something grabbed him from behind and yanked him down towards the ground before dragging fangs across his neck and shoulder. Dealing with Stiles was forced to wait as Derek fought back, coming face to face with the vampire, clawing at it, but not entirely sure how to kill it. 

The two tangled on the floor what seemed like hours, but was only a minute, it gnashing teeth against skin, ripping holes in Derek’s arms and chest, all the while, Scott’s voice trying to call to Stiles, trying to wake up what was surely a dead human. Derek could smell it, death, just lingering everywhere and it had Stiles. Roaring he sank his teeth into the vampire, determine to take its head off its shoulder. That would see to it that it was dead. 

“Antonio!”

Just like that the vampire was scrambling away, falling back towards the voice, skirting behind a figure that was emerging from the shadows. “And your human said he was nothing, worth little. I thought he was wrong. Interesting how an Alpha will revenge one of his own pack, or maybe something more than pack?” 

Derek was on his feet, snarling at the demon. “Scott, get him out of here,” he called without looking over his shoulder. 

“Derek, no,” he heard Isaac say, but the scuffling behind him was Scott dragging Isaac to help him with the lifeless Stiles. No, it wasn’t Stiles anymore, just a body, Stiles was gone. That smell of death, the lack of another heartbeat, Stiles was gone. 

He heard them move, not needing to track quick pounding heartbeats as they moved across the room, drowning out everything else. Derek snarled again, crouching lower. “Most of your pack is gone,” he told the demon who just grinned maniacally. 

“And you don’t think I can collect more pets? What matters from your pack is gone, I think we’re more than even.” The demon moved closer as Scott and Isaac left, grinning more. “You won’t make it out of this alive Derek. Either you side with me, or leave that group of pups without an Alpha.” 

Derek’s grin was just as evil, eyes glinting redder than before as he lowered his head. “I’ve never feared death, this is hardly the time to start.” He didn’t wait for another breath to fill the air he just leapt forward. What else was there to live for anyway? The pack would be fine, they’d survive without him. Even if he went down, Derek was taking anything he could with him.


	9. Chapter 9

There was something whirring softly and something else beeping steadily as consciousness started to jab him hard in the side. It was either that or something was actually jabbing him. Might have been the second because the next breath he took hurt like holy hell. And fuck it was bright, searing against his eyelids which were doing little to hold back whatever death ray of light someone was shining on him. 

For an instant he flashed back to a year and a half before, his father, heavy, metal flashlight in hand, yanking at the sheets and shining it right in his face, the perfect cop test to determine if your kid is actually asleep or had just snuck in the window. Just Stiles’ luck he’d been up too late playing an online game, not at the party his father had just broken up, and failed the test. It had taken days to properly explain and still apparently warranted being grounded for a week.

Turning his head against the light something else flashed with pain and he groaned, but that hurt too, throat raw from screaming he only vaguely remembered. That hadn’t been his voice had it? No. No that had been in his mind, a bad memory, a nightmare. He raised one hand to rub his face, finding it far too heavy to move and clumsily smacking himself in the face with what felt like a cast. 

That was enough to really wake him up, blinking and trying to use his other hand, only to find it tangled in a mess of blonde curls and Erica sitting in the chair next to the upright hospital bed, her head pooled in his lap while she slept. That hand was easier to move and without really thinking about it Stiles brushed his fingers through her hair gently, relieved when she murmured happily in her sleep. Maybe it was only half a nightmare.

It took a few more blinks for everything else to come into focus, the hospital room, the machines whirring and beeping around him, and Scott and Isaac making their way back to the room, Isaac awkwardly rolling a Coke can between his hands. “Boyd went back to the den, Peter’s at the house, but no one’s seen him yet. Jackson told us we were full of shit and just took off into the woods to see if he could track him. Last he said he found what was left of that other guy, but no Derek,” Isaac was saying, not really bothering with whispering which had Stiles wondering how long he’d been unconscious. Long enough he supposed. 

“Hey,” Stiles managed to croak, looking at Scott and Isaac, who both jerked around surprised to see him awake. 

“Hey!” Scott said, moving forward to the non-Erica side of Stiles’ bed. “You’re awake. I was starting to think you might not wake up.” 

“How long have I been out? A week?” Stiles croaked again and Scott found him some water, handing over the small cup. 

“No, just a day, we got you here late last night. You just looked like shit…and the doctors kept saying ‘if’ you woke up.” 

“Where’s my dad?” Stiles said after gulping down some of the water, which helped to alleviate some of the cotton in his mouth but not much. It wasn’t the smoothest attempt to avoid talking about what had happened or just how close to dead he’d been, but if any of Stiles’ memories were correct, there was absolutely no need to relive it. 

“Chasing down doctors and making demands about what happened to you. We gave him the best excuse we could, which wasn’t very good.” 

As if he could sense something, the Sheriff appeared within view of the windows of the hospital room and Stiles almost smiled at the sight of him. At least he was safe. His father wasted no time in pushing into the room without any semblance of grace, which was enough to finally rouse Erica who moved out of his way and back towards Isaac. 

“Finally,” he said, going for angry but Stiles could see the relief in his eyes. Neither of them did the whole waiting at the hospital well. “I’ve already got people looking into who attacked you. We’ll find them.” 

Stiles shook his head, but it made it swim a little. “It’s fine Dad. I’m fine. I think. Can I go home?” Because being here was not where he wanted to be, not when he’d spent too many days here for an entire lifetime. 

“Like hell you’re fine Stiles. This time you are very much not fine.” The sheriff looked ready to protest more but he wound up nodding. Home he understood and Stiles was relieved for that. “They said as soon as you were awake and someone checked you over you could probably go. You have to take it easy, but otherwise you’ll heal.” 

“Then find someone to check me over and find me some real clothes,” Stiles said already trying to sit up more even though that hurt. “I don’t want to be here.” 

Once his father was gone, Stiles turned his attention back to Scott who thankfully was holding out a clean shirt and not the one Stiles was sure he bled on earlier. “You guys get them? Because…they weren’t stopping until it looked like the end of the world out there.” He considered the IV in his arm, wondering if he could be a total badass like some movie and just rip the thing out, but wound up finding a way to disconnect it without that. His luck he would have bled out anyway. 

“Looks like everything’s wiped out. Or so Jackson said, but Derek…” 

Pulling the hospital gown off was painful enough and Stiles was halfway through failing to get the shirt on before there were familiar hands along his back, helping him dress. The smile he gave Erica was an attempt at grateful, but given the way she paled, Stiles guessed it looked more gruesome. 

“Derek’s not been seen since,” Stiles said, waving away Scott’s surprised look. And disconnecting something else that was attached to one of the monitors, smirking when it let out a series of panicked beeps. “I heard Isaac tell you. He’ll turn up. He’s probably with Deaton.” 

“You think we didn’t check there?” 

“Then he’s somewhere licking his wounds like a real wolf. We’ve thought he was dead how many times now? And how many times has he actually been dead? There’s no way he’s actually dead. Trust me, I did a lot of wishing he was dead and no such luck ever. He’s fine.” 

Stiles held his hand out for the sweats that Scott had and when Scott didn’t hand them over right away Stiles actually had to reach out and grab them. “You’d know if he was dead. They’d know. And someone else would be Alpha.” Theoretically. If that worked in practice Stiles wasn’t sure he wanted to find out. He also didn’t want to think of Derek as dead because that made something far less physical and yet far more potent hurt. 

“Stiles, I don’t think this is that simple,” Scott said ignoring Stiles shaking his head. “He was crazy when we left. He was completely fine with dying there.” 

“Derek will show up, he’s just off brooding or burying bodies in the woods or whatever else he does that he doesn’t talk about. Just go home, all three of you. I’m gonna go home and not move for a few days until my body has healed. Also, the lot of you owe me until were twenty-one and do not for an instant think I won’t cash in on it at every opportunity I can.” 

Before Scott could say anything else Stiles’ father was back in the room, practically dragging the doctor with him. Stiles missed everyone else leaving while he went through his final check up, was given a hefty dose of pain medication, and more properly detached from the remaining machines he hadn’t managed to unhook himself from on his own.

By the time he was being wheeled out in an oh-so humiliating wheelchair to the waiting squad car, he was alone with his father, who was trying very hard not to hover, but failing. “I could have walked,” he told the nurse, who thankfully wasn’t Scott’s mom. She settled for just giving him a look, which he returned snootily only to find out that when he tried to stand his legs essentially fought the entire idea. Okay maybe he couldn’t have walked. Once he was loaded into the car though the pain medicine was starting to kick in and Stiles thunked his head against the passenger side window. “You know,” his dad started and Stiles closed his eyes willing them home and not in the middle of the conversation they were apparently going to have. 

“I’m fine Dad. We’ve done this before; the definition of fine does not change. It happened; I’ll live.” 

“I heard that when you said it earlier and I don’t believe you, but that’s not what this is about. This is about the tattoo on your arm. I’m curious which establishment I get to raid for doing that to a minor who I know for sure didn’t have parental consent.” 

Stiles bit back a groan, knowing that the finding out about the tattoo had been inevitable, though secretly he’d wished that his father wouldn’t find out until he was eighteen, thus yielding a conversation about poor life choices and not misdemeanors. Stiles also knew though that his father was bringing it up because he was worried about his son and that was the safest topic he could use to address the worry. “There’s no one for you to arrest but me, Dad. Though I’m sure you knew that and found the shitty fake ID already considering it’s clipped to the dashboard.” 

There was a pause where it was obvious that both of them knew Stiles was right, and despite everything he’d still managed to spot his father’s typical behavior. “Don’t do this to me again,” his father finally said and Stiles squeezed his eyes shut more, fighting back the ache that circulated through him, something not related to his injuries. 

“Can we turn the lights on so we can get home faster?” he asked, voice not as steady as he would have liked, but when he glanced towards the driver’s side of the car, his eyes were surprisingly clear. 

His father looked stern, like there was a lecture on how that was against police protocol on the tip of his tongue, then nodded and leaned forward to flip the switch for the overhead lights. Stiles went back to resting his head against the window. It wasn’t perfect, but it was better than promising he wouldn’t do this again when he was sure he might. Even knowing how this time ended up, he would have done it again, no questions asked. That was just what he did.


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> beta'd by me

While his phone is buzzing somewhere not on his person, Derek didn’t think it should be a shock to anyone as to where he wound up after everything. He’d fought like he might die, like he welcomed death with open arms, and it had been enough to overpower the demon, the vampire and one more something that had crept out of the shadows at the last minute and hadn’t lived long enough to even be identified. Stronger with his pack, stronger with a mate, they kept telling him, but Derek had decided tonight it was bullshit; he was stronger with anger. Without a reason to live. 

It was just his luck he’d not died though, left to trudge through the woods, wounded and fighting the depression that was threatening to settle. For what felt like hours he didn’t actually plan where his feet took him, at least not until he wound up standing next to an all too familiar house.

The anger was gone as he lumbered through a window he was so well acquainted with and he was too hurt and clumsy to maneuver into properly. Most of his injuries had healed through the day, but some things were taking longer than usual. Or maybe he was just mentally blocking the heal. 

In the other room, the one they’d found Stiles in, he’d been surrounded by the scent of death and blood but this room, in this room Stiles smelled alive. Like he was right there, curled under the mess of blankets, like he’d been so many nights that Derek had climbed into that bed so he wouldn’t have to be alone. The bed was empty though, and it would stay that way. 

His movements were slow as he lumbered around the room, picking up a book off the desk that Stiles had left on top of a stack, probably the last thing he was reading. It was something about werewolves, something obviously not lore but fiction and probably really bad fiction. Derek almost smiled when he flipped through the pages and found entire sections highlighted, like what was written there would be useful. 

A recently worn hoodie was draped on the back of the chair and Derek found himself picking it up after he set down the book, clenching it in one hand and breathing in the scent until he had to sit down in the desk chair. Gone. Just completely gone. How stupid had Derek actually been to let Stiles go from being something he needed to something he was fine without to being completely erased from their lives? Just two days before Stiles had been wearing the hoodie in his hands, full of his usual sarcastic comments that never seemed to end. Pain seared through him when he realized, that the comments had ended, completely. 

Closing his eyes for a long moment he fought back emotions he wasn’t sure he was ready to spill into the room. There wasn’t much of anywhere else to do it, but Derek wasn’t ready yet. He might never be ready. That had always been his strength though, burying feelings, pain, and guilt as deep as it would go. It just felt a hell of a lot harder this time around than the last. Maybe he’d reached his capacity for what he could lock away and ignore. 

Opening his eyes again he looked at the open computer in front of him, running one finger over the track pad, watching it come to life. It was locked, but the background screen was there, a picture of Stiles and his friends, his arm around Scott who’s eyes were closed in laughter which meant the photo didn’t have the werewolf glare, Allison with her nose pressed against Scott’s cheek from where she was tucked close to him. Lydia was there with a less than amused Jackson, obviously there because someone had forcibly drug him into the picture and he was facing away, not ruining the picture either. The happiness of the photo was so drastically different from how Derek felt, how Derek was sure Jackson, Scott, Lydia and Allison felt. For all his talk of being the unwanted and ignored loser, Stiles had worked his way under their skin, become their best friend, their reluctant hero. Losing that was something they might not recover from. 

“I told Scott I had good reasons for password protecting my computer.” 

Derek jerked his head up, sure he was seeing things, but in an instant his mind processed that there was no way he’d invent Stiles like this, bruised, battered, cuts and scrapes obvious and a clunky cast on one arm. Plus the scent, while it had been there before, it took on new life, fresh, realistic and very much alive. He opened his mouth to say something, anything, but Stiles waved him away. Instead Stiles just closed the door behind himself, leaning on it heavily. 

“Get the fuck out of my room.” 

The words weren’t entirely perfect, slightly slurred from pain medication, but Derek sitting there, like he was waiting, holding on to his hoodie, that was too much for Stiles right now. Hell, for all Stiles knew he was hallucinating and what he really wanted was to stop doing that. Especially when the hallucinations looked completely broken, needy, and exactly what he’d wanted to see. 

“Stiles, I thought you were…” 

“I don’t care Derek. Get the fuck out. Now.” That got the Alpha to his feet, and Stiles grinned triumphantly, but it felt lopsided. It faded though when Derek didn’t leave as instructed and Stiles tried for a scowl, but that didn’t feel right either. “Why aren’t you leaving?” 

“You aren’t dead.” It was plain, not a question but more a statement as if it might banish a ghost because Derek was sure he was seeing a ghost. When he’d been in the room, there was nothing. No heartbeat, no breathing and so much death. Everything had been so laden with death, he’d assumed that meant Stiles as well. 

“No. I came very close to dead and now I feel like death. Get out. I can’t…I can’t deal with you right now. Because this, you here looking like your world is ending, is kind of exactly what I would have wanted to see at my funeral and since I’m not dead it’s kind of taking the fun out of it.” Stiles was babbling, but that was probably the pain medication. It was lowering inhibitions or something like that. That was the excuse he was going with at least. 

“Stiles,” Derek said moving closer and Stiles shrunk back against the door more. He didn’t care that Stiles was trying to throw him out, he needed to prove to himself that the boy was real. 

“No don’t, don’t do that…” he tried protesting, but Derek was there before he could much else. One hand smacked the door next to his head and Stiles realized that Derek was trying to hold back, trying to keep from being rough, pinning Stiles against the door like he was so good at doing, manhandling him around, because he was broken. He closed his eyes so he wouldn’t have to watch Derek’s, not needing to know what was visible only there. Fingers were tilting his head up to look at the bruises on his face and Stiles shuddered, that being too close to too real memory. 

Derek caught the shudder and realized it wasn’t the right kind quick enough to pull his hand away for the briefest of moments before slipping it along the back of Stiles’ neck and drew him closer. With his forehead pressed against Stiles’ Derek took a moment to breath in everything about the boy, even with the disinfectant smell from the hospital he was still Stiles, there under his hand. 

Stiles felt his breath hitch on a sob the moment Derek was pulling him closer and he instantly hated himself for it. Why had he demanded so much in the way of pain medication? Why had he not prepared for this? Because he wouldn’t let himself think it would happen. “You were supposed to be there!” It was as forceful as he could muster with tears in his eyes and a lump in his throat. “You said you wouldn’t let me get hurt! You said you wanted me! And then you were gone you didn’t care and I didn’t know what was going on and now my arm’s broken.” 

Derek was sure Stiles was talking about two different things, but he nodded anyway. “I know. I know. I didn’t want to do this; I couldn’t stand that you could get hurt. I was sure you were dead. Even when we found you, I couldn’t pick your heartbeat out of the mess, I was sure it had stopped beating all together. I was ready to die myself.” Which was far more self-sacrificing than he ever thought he would be. It shouldn’t have surprised Derek though, he’d had the same thoughts when his family burned in their house, wishing he’d been there with them, even if only to die alongside them. He’d managed to quell those feelings only to feel them again, in response the human in front of him. His hand on Stiles’ neck shifted so Derek’s arm was actually around him, elbow at Stiles’ neck, something closer to a hug, but Stiles fought it. 

“No. No, that’s not okay. You don’t just get to be here now, because you…You had to make an effort before. Not just because I was dead. That doesn’t make it better. Me almost dying doesn’t fix things.” Stiles was surprised when he managed to get out from Derek’s grip, but he supposed Derek was letting him go this once. The stumbling to his bed was slower than he expected and when he dropped on to it Stiles winced again, but couldn’t move. “Just go,” Stiles grumbled into the pillow, not turning to look at Derek. 

“I’m not leaving,” Derek said already kicking off his shoes and reaching to move Stiles over enough to give him space. 

“Yes you are. Stop touching me. I’m broken,” Stiles tried, flailing with the casted arm as if it was a weapon, but the medicine had him too sluggish to do any damage. 

“Shut up Stiles,” Derek said, feeling like something was right again, but he couldn’t quite place what it would be. He caught the flailing arm and used it to guide Stiles where he wanted him, curled against his chest where Derek could protect him like he’d failed so miserably to do before. 

Stiles’ body revolted against his best intentions that involved kneeing Derek and snuggled in closer, head tucking under his chin, craving the contact. “This does not fix things,” he grumbled softly. 

“I know,” Derek admitted. It only fixed the part where Stiles wasn’t dead; where Derek wasn’t sure anything of worth in him was dying. 

“Not even close to fixes things. There’s the letting me almost die part, the ignoring me in front of others part, the part where you wanted me and you were sleeping here all the time then you stopped showing up,” Stiles babbled again even if his voice was softer and he was fighting sleep. Derek smelled awful, like blood and sweat, but at the same time he smelled like Derek and he was warm and wrapping both arms around Stiles. 

“And the Erica thing,” Derek added, fingers against the back of Stiles’ neck, eyes closed as he pressed his nose into Stiles’ hair. 

“And the mated to someone else thing,” Stiles pointed out, but felt Derek shake his head against his own. 

“She’s dead. That died with her.” He was still hurting, but when Kate had died, the bond had died with her. Derek wasn’t sure if he could make the bond again with someone else, but for now at least he was free of it. 

“She…this isn’t the part where you tell me it was your sister right? I so can not handle that right now. It’s changes everything and I really just don’t have the strength to tell you how much of a creep you’d be for that.” 

Derek squeezed the back of Stiles’ neck hard for a quick moment as a warning. “No it’s not my sister. Someone else. She betrayed me and I left her, fighting the bond until she died.” 

“That doesn’t sound easy,” Stiles said, pulling back to see Derek’s eyes. “Sounds more like, completely unnatural and against every instinct you have. 

“Not even close to it.” He paused for a moment, shifting as Stiles did, looking at him carefully. “Thinking you were dead was almost harder. I could have sworn…it smelled like death.” Derek’s eyes were somber, watching Stiles’ for a moment before Derek was itching to have him closer again, nose buried in his hair, his skin anything to just be overwhelmed by the scent of him. 

“The vampire maybe? That thing was…was not even LeStat let alone sparkly. And vicious. I have bite marks which are not sexy or cool, but more like gashed puncture wounds.” Stiles let out a sigh and looked back towards Derek’s eyes. “Are you staying?” he ventured, very aware that just moments before he’d been adamantly trying to throw the older man out, but now he didn’t want him to go anywhere. 

Nodding slowly, Derek drew Stiles back closer to him. “Staying as long as you want me to,” he said, surprised that he actually meant it. He would let Stiles determine how long he lingered, not his own schedule. “Rest. We’ll go back to fixing things in the morning.” 

Stiles inched in closer, good hand holding tight to Derek’s shirt as he let the pain medicine really kick in and sleep take over. In the back of his mind he doubted the Alpha would be there when he woke up, but he wasn’t in a position to protest. For now this had to be enough.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Question: Do you guys want more? I could do more, or I could call this the end and just keep writing in this little 'verse I've created. I just worry more might be cliche boring fluff. I don't want to bore you <3
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> EDIT: Gonna call this this the end, but I'll pick it back up again, already started another one in this 'verse. Bookmark the series for more.


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